Rescuing Melissa (ALPHA TEAM: Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists)

35. More Plans

THIRTY-FIVE

More Plans

PIERCE

Many minutes after I settled in at the bar, I watched Tank, and my Amazon, walk into the elevator on the eighteenth floor. She stared out of the glass while he faced the doors. The difference in their sizes fascinated me. She was thin and tall, with musculature accentuating her curves. Towering above her, Tank was a monster.

If the two of them were coming down, what the hell was Hero-boy doing to my Queen?

If he touched her, I would rip his head off.

Moments later, Tank and Amazon took a small table not more than ten feet from where I perched. Terrified that Tank would recognize me from the hospital, I placed my back to him, keeping an eye on them through the mirror behind the bar. My position allowed me to admire my Amazon and her flawless perfection.

She ordered a glass of wine, and he asked for water. I shifted, straining to listen to their conversation, hopeful something could help my quest.

“You didn’t have to be such a bitch.” Tank stretched back in his seat while his cold eyes scanned the hotel lobby.

“Someone needed to say something.”

Her sharp retort made me snicker. I couldn’t wait to make her mine. I loved the light lilt of my Amazon’s voice. What accent was that? Something exotic and raw. What would she sound like when she screamed?

She continued. “You weren’t stepping up to the plate.”

My hearing perked up, eager to exploit anything I could.

“CJ’s cool.”

So, Hero’s name was CJ.

“He’s distracted.”

“No. CJ doesn’t get distracted. Besides, you haven’t given him anything to do.”

“The girls…”

“He’s going to talk to them at lunch.”

It seemed like Hero-boy had lots of girls hanging around. Yet another reason to get my Queen out from under his influence. I struggled with my lack of a plan.

The big guy sipped his water and watched the woman over the rim of his glass. Tank traced a finger over the water rings left by his glass, doodling on the tabletop.

Her mouth entranced me. A darker coloring deepened her plump lips. Would they feel different wrapped around my dick than a white woman’s lips? I shifted, trying to relieve the ache in my pants as they tightened with my need.

With great effort, I forced myself to focus on their conversation, but every time she licked her lips, my thoughts wandered to having them wrapped around my dick.

The bartender swapped out her empty wine glass with a new one. She took a sip, those entrancing lips of hers hugging the rim of the glass.

Tank pulled a phone out of his pocket, the vibrations buzzing as loud as a ringtone. “Yo!” A minute passed without him saying a word, then he answered. “Got it.”

“What’s wrong?” My Amazon tipped the glass and emptied its contents.

“That was Sam. Our team’s delayed… weather. Won’t be here at noon like we thought.”

“Shit,” she said. “When?”

“They’re renting a car and driving down. Sam thinks no later than three.”

“CJ won’t be pleased.” She tapped on her phone. “I’m letting him know. Besides, it’s almost time to go.”

A few minutes later, Hero-boy walked into the bar. I watched his approach through the reflection of the mirror. He scanned the room, and my heart thundered, but he looked through and past me like I didn’t exist. Although he could only see the back of my head. I was safe.

And what was that? His cell phone poked out of his back pocket, an easy lift if I wanted it. And I would need his phone. My day just brightened.

They were pushing me to take risks because I would have to get close to him to snatch that phone. I didn’t like that. I didn’t like him. His walk irritated me, all confident like he owned the place. His deep voice carried that soothing edge women flocked toward, and I had no doubt he’d been using it on my Queen. I hated the expanse of muscle spreading beneath his t-shirt. I hated everything about him because I knew he desired my Queen.

An image of him chained and bleeding flashed in my eyes. I’d love to slice his pretty face. Speaking of, I needed something to hide my face. Fortunately, the dude beside me left his ball cap on the bar. It would do.

“I won’t be pleased about what?” Hero-boy grabbed a nearby chair from another table, raising a hand, he flagged over the bartender.

Tank tossed a couple of twenties on the table and stood. “Security detail won’t be here until three.”

“Three!” Hero-boy’s face turned cherry blossom red. For a moment, I hoped his head would explode. That would save me a lot of trouble. “What happened to noon?”

His gaze surveyed the room and settled on my reflection. A flicker of recognition flashed in his face, but he didn’t do anything. But then why would he? I was just a guy sitting at a bar. But damn! The intensity of his stare had me practically pissing myself.

“Weather delays.” Tank breathed in, and his barrel chest widened even further.

The bartender made his way over to their table, but instead of Hero-boy ordering a drink, he waved him away. They got up to leave, and the roundness of my Amazon’s hips snagged my attention. Shit, I needed to focus. I needed that phone. And then the universe answered my prayers.

An elderly couple sitting a table away stood. Their ponderous movements, unsteady and frail, provided the perfect opportunity. I snagged the ball cap and set it low to shield as much of my face as possible and then positioned myself to provide a distraction. A collision of the old and the overly-rushed would be perfect.

Tank put a hand on Hero-boy’s shoulder. “Melissa will be safe. Hotel security is aware.”

It took little to make the old woman stumble as I pitched her toward Hero-boy.

Her shaky voice trembled with surprise. “I’m so sorry.” She placed a hand on Hero-boy’s arm. “I’m so clumsy.”

While she gave her apologies, Hero-boy steadied her on her feet. I took advantage of his distraction to lift his phone out of his back pocket. With a polished flick of my wrist, I tucked it into the waistband of my jeans.

Hero-boy’s gaze lifted to the atrium, his eyes sweeping left. Mine followed the direction of his gaze, but for a different purpose. He was thinking about what he was leaving behind. I was thinking about what was soon to be mine.